The Love Club
by Colt And Katana
Summary: There's only one important rule: Don't talk about the love club. Someone calling themselves the Matchmaker is pairing up random people in the prison for steamy hookups. Just don't talk about the Love Club. Be punctual. Be clean. Have fun. This is an ongoing series.
1. Welcome To The Love Club

**A/N:** I was going to do a series entitled The Prison Never Fell. Instead I have gone with this series. The introduction you're about to read explains the premise of the whole series. There will be random pairings, not just the standard Richonne and Bethyl. I hope you enjoy.

**.**

_**I am the Matchmaker. Burn this** note after reading. Chances are you will never know who I am. This first note is to tell you about the Love Club. You are invited to join. This is a privilege for consenting adults that, should you decide to join the club, you can never speak of it to anyone else. That is the only important rule of the club. Never speak of it. Not even those you know are in the club with you. Should you decide to join you simply write your name on a small scrap of paper. Drop it in the red box at the warden's office. Walk away. Don't look back. Don't even speak of this note. You will receive further instruction from there._

Rick Grimes read the note through twice more, trying to decipher if it was a joke or not, and deciding he honestly couldn't tell. The note had been typed so he couldn't trace the handwriting. Love Club? What could that be? It was obviously something secret. He just didn't know if it was something that was harmful or not. Per the note's instructions, he took out a lighter and burned it to ash.

If Rick wanted to get down to the bottom of the mystery he would have to play along. He found a scrap of paper in one of the offices, grabbed a pencil, and wrote his name on it. He then took it to the warden's office and, sure enough, there was a metal box painted red fixed to the door. He dropped it inside and looked around to see if there was anyone else in the vicinity. There wasn't, that he could tell.

He tried a stakeout. He skulked in the corner of the hall and watched for someone to come to collect the scraps of paper in the box. No one showed. Since it was probably something harmless anyway, Rick left after a few hours and decided he'd see what came next.

**.**

_**Even though he doubted he was**_ the only one to receive a note, Rick realized nobody else was talking about receiving one. The following day he approached Daryl and started to ask him if he'd received a strange message from the Matchmaker but decided against it. The rules, after all, were the rules. He'd put his name in the box, thereby agreeing he wouldn't speak of it to anyone else, so he decided he'd play along.

There was a piece of folded paper, once again typed, on his bed when he returned to his bunk that night. He eagerly opened it.

_This is the Matchmaker. Burn this note after reading. Considering your history as a law enforcement officer I won't hold it against you that you tried to investigate my identity. Further such behavior, however, will result in you being disqualified from the Love Club. Here is how the club works. Once a week you will receive a notice with a time and place one day in advance. Be at that place, at the designated time. Make sure your body is clean, you have on clean clothing, and that you have brushed your teeth. Proper hygiene is imperative to the success and enjoyment of everyone's involvement in the Love Club. Once you have arrived at the designated location at the designated time you will find another member of the Love Club. There you will engage in sex. Do not join the Love Club if you believe you cannot follow through. You cannot request a different partner, though you may choose to refuse should you find you are incompatible with your assigned partner. You cannot speak of your interaction with your partner outside of the meeting. Be clean. Be punctual. Have fun_.

Rick stared at the note in disbelief. It was a _sex club_, right here in the prison they now called their home. He set the note on fire and tossed it into the small metal wastebasket beside his bed to watch it burn. He steepled his fingers and considered what was going on.

The Love Club was for consenting adults. The author of the note had made that clear. There was no legitimate basis to object. If consenting adults wanted to join a club where someone made random hookups between people, who was he to stop them? He didn't have to join. He didn't have to take part. Nobody would know he'd decided to bow out. Nobody but this mysterious Matchmaker, at any rate.

He considered the idea of hooking up with people from his group. God, what if he got Beth or Maggie? He respected them. He respected their father. He couldn't imagine slipping inside one of the Greene girls.

That wasn't completely true. He could see it and it made his dick twitch traitorously. That was something he reserved for fantasy when he beat off in the privacy of his bunk some nights, when the loneliness was too much, and he needed to work off the energy.

He assumed this Matchmaker was aware of who was related to whom. He doubted Hershel would ever walk into a room and find one of his daughters waiting. He wondered if Hershel had received an invitation. He wondered if the religious man had said yes. He wondered if he'd ever walk into a room and find Hershel waiting for him. That thought was truly disturbing.

Rick Grimes kicked his shoes off and leaned back in his bunk to await sleep. He wondered when he'd get a notification.

**.**

_**Two weeks went by and Rick**_ started to doubt that the whole Love Club thing was even real. Perhaps his admittedly fractured mind had simply made it all up. He was just about to forget the whole thing when he found a tiny scrap of paper on his bed. It was written in hand, block print that he had absolutely no intentions of trying to identify, sitting on his bunk.

With his heart pounding, Rick opened the tiny scrap. Admin Office B. Thurday. Eleven p.m.

That would be the following night. He had twenty-four hours to agonize over it and second guess himself. In the end, however, when eleven o'clock rolled around the next evening, Rick Grimes was freshly showered, dressed, and on his way to Office B in the Admin building.


	2. Rick and Beth

_**He couldn't believe he was actually doing this. **_

The door to the office had a glass window in the center. It was covered with blinds that he couldn't see through. Rick looked left and right, making sure no one was watching, and then knocked on the door before cautiously opening it. He wondered, as the door seemed to open in slow motion, who would be on the other side.

_Of course_, he thought, when his eyes lighted on Beth Greene. Hadn't she been one of the first people on his mind when he'd first heard about this damned Love Club?

"Rick!" she said, her eyes widening.

"I can leave," he said hastily.

"Uh…no…that's okay…"

Beth stood in the center of the room wearing a strapless sundress and looking impossibly young and innocent. God, what if this was her first time? Why on earth had she joined a club like this?

He shut the door behind him and locked it, his stomach loaded with bats that felt like they wanted to claw their way out, and stood there, facing her mutely. They remained that way, awkwardly looking everywhere around the room but at one another.

"So…" she said, finally breaking the heavy silence.

"Are you old enough to be in this club?"

She nodded. "Yeah. I'm eighteen."

Rick also nodded. The sight of a box of condoms on a shelf was unsettling because it made their reason for being in the room much more real, even more so than the mattress in the corner of the otherwise empty room. It had two pillows and some clean sheets. There were also two bottles of water on the shelf. Rick grabbed one and downed half.

"Well?" he said. "You can back out."

"So can you," she said.

"Do you want out?" he said, moving so he was no longer blocking the door.

"No. I'm committed."

"This isn't a dare, Beth," Rick said.

"Don't talk to me like I'm twelve," she said, exasperated and clearly very nervous. "I want to try this. I just didn't think it would be with you. I thought I'd get Daryl or Tyreese or somebody."

Rick was nodding, unsure what to say. He didn't think he could do it, even if Beth did. God knows he wanted to. He'd always felt ashamed fantasizing about her. He'd always thought a dirty dream was all she'd ever be. Now it was real, it was happening, and he wasn't sure he could…

Beth was pulling her dress over her head. She was naked underneath. Her pussy was almost completely shaved bald except for a tiny patch up the center that fanned out prettily. She sculpted her snatch. That was something he hadn't been prepared for. He felt blood rush south, straight into his dick, where he warmed and hardened at once. All hesitation was suddenly gone.

"Okay, then," he said, and approached her.

Beth swallowed and then took a deep breath as Rick approached, pulling off his shirt and tugging his belt off as he did. He wrapped one hand around the back of her neck and pulled her into a kiss. He hadn't fucked in over a year and a half, months before Lori's death. Now, here he was, alone in a room with sweet, young, naked Beth Greene and he wanted to plow into her with wild abandon.

"You a virgin?" he asked huskily.

Beth was breathless when she shook her head no.

"Good."

Rick took the rest of his clothes off and then led Beth over to the bed.

**.**

_**Beth Greene couldn't believe she'd agreed**_ to have sex with a man without knowing who that man would be until he actually walked into the room. When Rick Grimes had opened the door she'd reacted in shock. He was the last man she'd ever suspect of taking part in something like this, and she knew he probably thought the same of her.

It wasn't like she'd never thought of him before. She had. In fact, she'd harbored a crush on him from the moment she laid eyes on him and it had lasted a full year before it finally faded. Now, here she was riding him, bouncing on his dick, squirting her juices onto him as she climaxed.

Sweat slicked her skin. She cried out, helpless to hold the sound of her pleasure in, and came hard onto Rick's cock.

"Fuck, Beth…" Rick moaned.

He flipped her over. His body was also covered in sweat. He smelled like soap and aftershave and something else that she liked. It was an earthy, heady, natural scent that filled her senses. Her pussy continued to spasm around him. Though she'd adjusted to his cock inside of her he still filled her and each thrust made her quiver inside. She felt herself coming again as he continued pounding into her, holding her by the arms while her face rested in the pillows of the bed.

"Oh, God…" She cried the words like a mantra every time he slammed into her.

Rick stiffened behind her, a low moan pouring from his throat, and it was the most erotic thing she'd ever heard. He released her and sat back on his heels while Beth slowly slid off his dick and lay face first in the bed.

They quickly dressed. Their hair was mussed, especially Beth's, their faces were flushed and a light sheen of sweat coated their skin. They looked freshly fucked and others in the club would know they'd been together if they were seen in the state they were in.

"Is this your first club meeting?"

She nodded. "You?"

"Yeah. I just wonder how long it's been going on."

Beth shrugged. "I don't know. We won't be able to talk about it but…I enjoyed it. I hope we get paired up again."

"Me too," he said, genuinely hoping for another encounter with Beth.

She left the office first and then he followed a couple of minutes later. He encountered no one as he returned to his bunk and crashed into the cot.

_I just fucked Beth Greene…_

A smile tugged at Rick's lips. There would be no consequences to the night's activities. He wouldn't have to deal with emotional hang-ups. Beth had a level head on her shoulders. She'd gone into it knowing the rules. He was confident of that. So, the Love Club offered people a way to meet sexual needs without having to worry about emotional entanglements. No strings attached sex.

He was, Rick decided, now a dedicated member. He wasn't going to rock the boat by trying to figure out who was behind it and who all was in it. He was just going to go along for the ride.

As he drifted off to sleep, Rick wondered who he'd be paired up with next.


	3. Daryl and Sasha

_**Daryl Dixon didn't know who was**_ behind the note that had been left on his bunk but he was pretty sure it had to be a joke. Love Club? That was the dumbest fucking thin he'd ever heard of. He was going to dismiss it until he saw Glenn nervously burning a note. Daryl had followed Glenn and was shocked to see him drop his name into the red box at the warden's office.

So the so-called Love Club was real and Glenn was gonna participate. What about Maggie? Did she know? Did she plan to participate too or was Glenn doing this behind her back?

Daryl had been prepared to dismiss the whole thing, to not participate, until he'd followed Rick to one of the offices in the administrative building and heard him banging someone inside. He'd recognize the girl's voice anywhere-it had been Beth Greene. Sweet little Beth Green had moaned like a whore while Rick put it to her and Daryl had felt himself harden at the sound of her cries mingled with Rick's grunts. He'd immediately dropped his name in the red box after that.

It was only the memory of Beth's moans and cries that helped Daryl stay steady now. Ever since the world had gone to hell-hell for everyone else, at least, because it had always been hell for him-Daryl had satisfied his sexual needs by taking matters into his own hands. He'd never bothered with commitments in the past. He'd long prided himself on never having had a serious girlfriend. Now that the world was at its end he couldn't see the sense in making a commitment now.

Though that arrangement worked well for him, Daryl couldn't deny that he wouldn't mind a no-strings tryst. It would be good to sink balls deep into a warm, wet pussy, to suckle some titties, rather than just beat off in his bunk all the time.

Daryl's eyes scanned the tiny note that had been hand-written in blocky all cap letters.

Friday. Ten a.m. Treehouse two. Wait thirty minutes.

There were six crude treehouses scattered in the vicinity around the prison. They'd been put there to house supplies and safe havens should anyone who was authorized to go on runs ever find themselves stuck outside after dark, or in need of quick shelter, food, water, or weapons because of threat from men or walkers. Treehouse two was close to the prison. He had this Friday off, too, so he could come and go as he wanted.

Friday came in rainy and cool. Daryl left the prison and arrived at treehouse two at precisely ten a.m. He loved being out in the forest. It had been his favorite place to fuck before the turn and it would be good to be in nature again when he got laid this time. He took a few moments to breathe deep the smell of wet grass and trees. It was so fresh, free of the stink of decay from the walkers since there were none in the area. He hoped his luck held up.

He climbed up through the trapdoor and left it open to make it easier for whoever his partner was going to be. He opened a bottle of water and sat down to wait the required thirty minutes. They passed slowly, like hours. Anxiety pooled in his belly as the time got closer. He listened to the familiar sounds of the forest and heard a car pull up. She was here. He wiped his suddenly sweaty palms on his jeans and waited to see whose head was gonna pop up through the trapdoor.

To his immense surprise it was Tyreese's sister, Sasha.

**.**

"_**Dixon," Sasha said, looking surprised as**_ she stared at him. "You sent me the note?"

He shook his head. "No. It's somebody else making these hookups. You got a problem with me?"

He didn't mean to sound so aggressive. He just felt uncomfortable at how she was looking at him. He knew the note said they could refuse their assigned partner if they felt they were incompatible.

"No," she said. "I figured you'd have one with me. I've heard you describe yourself as a redneck."

"Redneck, not racist," he said, knowing she meant she thought he'd have a problem with her being black. Her foot slipped on the last rung and Daryl caught her before she could fall to the ground below. He pulled her up and she was flush against him. He stepped away from her, feeling shy and awkward, especially with her grinning up at him.

"Like the makeup," he said quietly.

"Thanks. Like the aftershave," she said, equally awkward with him.

To give herself something to do, Sasha closed the trapdoor and then looked around the room. The corner had been made up with an air mattress. There were a few condoms on a small cooler that could be used as a table.

"So, if you want to I'm game."

"Yeah," he nodded.

The truth was he'd never been with a black woman before. His brother would have skinned him alive for that, but he'd always wanted to try it. He'd been fantasizing about both Sasha and Michonne since he'd met them. Now he'd get the real thing. He imagined she was no different than a white woman. The only real difference was the color of her skin and hair texture.

Their first kiss started off awkward. Sasha broke it and Daryl stepped away, losing his nerve to go through with it until she began to pull her shirt off.

"We should get undressed," she suggested. "Maybe we can relax slowly if we lie down?"

He nodded and took off his clothes. His eyes were glued to Sasha, just as Sasha's eyes were glued to Daryl as she watched him disrobe. The more clothes that came off the less nervous they felt and the more aroused they became. Daryl held up a hand to halt Sasha and then gently reached up to unhook her bra. It was, he was grateful to see, one of the front-hook ones.

He sighed when he peeled the bra away to reveal her breasts. Her nipples were pebbled, more from arousal than the cool autumn air. Outside the sound of the rain picked up and Daryl was glad. It would mask any sound they made should a walker wander by below. Daryl played his thumbs over her hardened buds and she bit her lip, nodding in approval.

"You like that?"

"Mm-hmm."

He knelt before Sasha and flicked his tongue out, the tip of it lightly licked her nipple before he took the hardened tip into his mouth. She moaned lightly, especially as his hands came to grip her ass, and pulled her against him. At this distance he'd begun to catch scent of her arousal and it hardened him. He continued lavishing attention on her nipples while her hands tangled in his hair.

Daryl led Sasha to the air mattress in the corner and lay her down. He enjoyed peeling her simple white cotton underwear off to reveal a thick snatch of soft black curls that were moistened with her heat. Her eyes were hooded as she stared up at him.

"I've thought about you before. I've wanted to taste you for so long," Daryl confessed.

He parted Sasha's legs and gently swept the tips of his fingers over the creamy soft skin of her thighs. The taut muscles beneath quivered at his gentle touch. Once again Sasha's fingers found their way to Daryl's hair as he bent forward. His lips teasingly skimmed her belly, lower and lower, until he reached her moistened womanhood, setting her skin afire everywhere he made contact.

Daryl dipped his tongue into the damp curls that covered the swollen nub of Sasha's clit. She was sweet as honey and a light moan escaped him. The sound vibrated against the sensitive bud and sent a ripple of pleasure through her. Sasha was genuinely surprised. She'd expected Daryl to be a clumsy, selfish lover who would simply mount her until he came, thank her, and then leave her behind. She silently scolded herself as he continued to moan his pleasure, his mouth becoming a gentle but effective vibrator. There was nothing clumsy or selfish about Daryl Dixon as a man, nor as a lover.

The tension in the core of Sasha's body built to a peak. Daryl's tongue circled and suckled her clit until the heat in her core burst. She felt her juices release in an explosive gush while her whole body hummed as though coursing with electricity. Her wanton moans died down under the sound of a close clap of thunder and the ensuing languid roll that followed.

With her limbs feeling as though she no longer had bones to support them, Sasha forced herself onto her elbows to regard Daryl. She kissed him and licked her juices from his chin.

"Your turn. Tell me what you need."

Daryl placed a hand on her sweat-slicked chest and eased her back. He reached for a condom and rolled it over his throbbing erection. He was harder than he'd been in, literally, years.

"I need to take what I need," he said.

"Take it," she sighed. "I'm yours."

Daryl rubbed the head of his cock through Sasha's slippery folds. He was long and thick and she felt her pussy loosen and throb in anticipation of penetration. Daryl now crouched on his haunches and had each of her legs in his arms. He pulled her up to him and then gently pushed inside. He pushed until he was buried balls deep.

"Fuck…fuck…" he whispered, his eyes closed. The look of ecstasy on Daryl's face moistened Sasha even more.

"Yes," she encouraged. She knew he needed to fuck her. He'd gotten her off. He'd made it good for her. Now he just needed to fuck her. "Pound my pussy," she said, running her finger over her clit. "Pound it hard."

Daryl began to move. There was no gentleness. He thrust into her Sasha and watched as her tits bounced and rolled with each thrust. He fucked her hard, fast, putting everything he had into it. He even watched as she squirted, her juices drizzling out with each thrust. He was whimpering now. He was so close he couldn't hold back.

"Yes…" Sasha moaned. "Fuck me…"

Daryl came with explosive force, feeling his cum rush through his body hard and fast. He made a sound like he was weeping as he spilled himself into the condom.

**.**

_**It had been years since Daryl**_ had had sex. It had never been _that_ fucking good. He dressed after he and Sasha caught their breath and shared a cigarette. Smoking was something she rarely did, but after orgasms of the magnitude Daryl had given her she figured what the hell. He felt centered, at peace, satisfied and content. He was going to go back to the prison and grab something from the grill before he went to lie down and listen to the rain, and maybe turn in early.

"So, we can't talk about it after this?"

She shook her head. "Against the rules."

"It was really good for me," he said. "Really good."

"It was mind-blowing for me," Sasha confessed. She stood on tiptoe and shared one last long, slow kiss with Daryl before she opened the trapdoor. She was glad there were no walkers in sight. The ruckus they'd made had been masked by the thunderstorm.

Daryl followed her down and then mounted his bike.

"Think we'll be paired up again?" he asked.

"God, I hope so," she said, and then hopped in the car she'd brought.

He watched her go before he started his bike. He hoped he got Sasha again, too. Until that time came back around, he eagerly awaited to see who his next partner was going to be.

**.**

**A/N**: Well, I hope everyone enjoyed reading that one as much as I enjoyed writing it. I'm seriously digging Sashyl at the moment. I may pair them up again in another fic. I don't know yet.


	4. Zach and Carol

**A/N: **I'm not twisted. I'm creative and daring and I think outside the box. Sometimes sex is awkward and scary. Some of my reasons for writing this pairing is that I wanted to. I wanted it to be silly and lighthearted and not taken at all seriously. This entire series is about exploration of different characters coming together, being with people that they normally wouldn't be with, and me exploring how they would react to finding themselves in the 'bedroom' with each other. So keep that in mind when you read.

**.**

_**Carol Peletier wrung her hands and paced**_**.** This was insane. It was literally insane. Love Club? Surely it couldn't be real. Surely people that she'd known for four years, had put at her back against horror and danger, starvation and fear, weren't letting some anonymous person hook them up with each other, or the Woodbury survivors, for casual sexual encounters. Surely not. It seemed so wrong.

It was also undeniably intriguing. Who would she get if she decided to join this club? What if whoever she was partnered with decided to back out? Who was this Matchmaker? It had to be someone from Woodbury. That was the only explanation she could accept.

_Sunday evening. Seven p.m. The prison laundry._

Carol watched the meat on the grill cook for a few moments, contemplating the time and place of her first scheduled hookup. No one was looking so she discreetly slipped the paper in among the coals where it began to burn. She didn't have to go, of course. Nobody was twisting her arm. As she doled out meat during lunch she wondered who all was in club.

Of course nobody spoke of it. That was the only real rule of import. Don't talk about it. Carol had no way to know which of her friends was actually in the club. She also didn't know how long it had been going on before she was invited to join. Now that she looked back on it, though, the past few weeks had seen some odd behavior amongst her friends.

Sometimes Carol caught Rick and Beth sharing a lingering look. She'd seen Sasha touch Daryl in a very intimate fashion by running her fingertips through his hair one day, ostensibly to clear out a few pine needles that had fallen into his hair when he'd returned from the forest, but the gaze that passed between them was one that suggested they'd touched one another before. People seemed to be sharing a lot of loaded glances. Was it her imagination or was something going on?

"You okay?"

Rick Grimes had his plate up and was smiling at her.

"I said your name twice but you look like your mind had wandered," he explained.

"Sorry. I was thinking."

Carol loaded a few slices of deer meat onto his plate and looked around to see if anyone was watching. She decided it was safe to speak.

"I received a really odd note."

To her surprise, Rick only winked at her and left. Carol was convinced that Rick knew about the Love Club and was probably even a member. Was that the reason behind the intense look between him and Beth? Had he had sex with her? The girl was barely legal.

_You could end up with him…_

The idea that she could end up with Rick Grimes made Carol's thighs quiver. It wasn't like she hadn't imagined it before. She'd thought of him almost as much, if not more, than Daryl Dixon. Tyreese sometimes slipped into her mind when she felt just right under the sheets in her bunk at night and she allowed her hands to wander over her body.

Carol didn't hold out too much hope she would luck up on Rick her first time out. Knowing her luck she'd get Creepy Kevin, the guy from Woodbury who had the shifty eyes and the growth on his nose.

Autumn seemed determined, this year, to drown them in rain. It meant the lower level of the prison would probably flood again, as it had in the spring when they'd gotten a lot of rain. It must have been a problem when the prison was functioning for its intended purpose because they'd found a storage room packed full of sandbags and Rick had ordered them placed in problem areas. It was a band aid solution at best, though.

Fortunately for Carol the floor was dry when she made her way to the laundry room half an hour after her shower. She was a few minutes early but the facility was deserted. She carefully checked before hopping up on one of the laundry tables to wait.

The minute hand advanced painfully slow on her watch. When it was seven p.m. the door handle rattled and she felt her stomach clench, wondering who was about to walk through the door.

Don't be Creepy Kevin. Don't be Creepy Kevin.

It wasn't Creepy Kevin. It was worse. Carol shook her head in disbelief.

"_Zach_?"

**.**

_**He shut the door and looked**_ at her with wide eyes set in a very pale face. She'd always known him to come off as cocky. He was anything but now.

"Have walkers gotten in?" she said. Surely that had to be it. Surely this Matchmaker wouldn't pair her up with _Zach_. He must have wandered in by mistake, looking for a safe haven from intruding walkers.

"I was told to be here at seven," he said. His voice was high pitched and he was sweating lightly. His hair was also lightly damp from the shower.

"I was also told to give you this."

He pulled something from his pocket and handed it to her. She opened the tiny scrap of paper. There was a single word printed in blocky all-caps.

_VIRGIN_

"Oh, God…"

The other note had said she could back out if she wasn't compatible with her assigned partner. She was ready to do just that.

"So, I was told I'd get an experienced woman," Zach said. "You like, were married once, right? You had a daughter. You have experience."

"Zach, this isn't how your first time should be."

"I just want to _have_ a first time. I'm twenty-one and I haven't done it yet. I was always weird around girls and then this plague hit and I never had the chance to do it. I just…Please? We're supposed to do this. The Matchmaker must know what they're doing, right?"

_Apparently not,_ Carol thought.

"I could die any day. I just want to do it," he said.

He had such wide eyes and Carol felt a stab of pity for the boy. He's a virgin. He just wants to get it over with. He was told he'd be given someone with experience. Why her, though?

"Did you bring a condom?"

He shook his head.

He was a virgin. The likelihood he'd pass on a disease was minimal. She'd had a partial hysterectomy a when Sophia was three due to a fibroid. She couldn't have children. Condoms weren't really necessary, she supposed. Not when she couldn't get pregnant and he couldn't have an STD.

_Just do it for the boy. It'll be over in seconds anyway_.

"I guess," Carol conceded.

He relaxed and started toward her. All his usual swagger was gone, especially when he stopped in front of her, and held his hands up as though unsure what to do next.

_Wow. He really _doesn't_ have any experience_, Carol thought. She looked around. There was nowhere for them to lie down but her eyes landed on a dryer that had blankets stuffed inside. The door was slightly open. When she went over to the pile she opened it and realized the blankets were clean. Whoever had planned this must have put them there. She pulled them out and arranged them on the floor.

"Put that chair under the door handle. We don't need someone walking in," Carol said, while she spread out the four thick blankets into a soft cushion.

Zach did as ordered and then came over to Carol.

"I'm ready. You?" he said eagerly.

"Yeah," she replied, trying not to let sarcasm seep through. If she ever found this matchmaker she was going to kill them with her bare hands.

He kissed her. It was sloppy and fast and kind of endearing but Carol still put a stop to it. She gave him instruction on how she liked to be kissed. Eager to learn, he put his hands on her hips and kissed her the way she showed him.

"Okay," she said. "That's good."

He smiled, pleased with himself, and let his eyes wander to her breasts. Carol really didn't want to get naked with a twenty-one year old but he seemed so eager she put her discomfort aside and allowed his hands to wander over her body and under her shirt. She finally pulled it off and unhooked her bra. Zach sighed.

"I've never seen them up close in real life," he said. "I was seventeen when the Turn happened and I hadn't gotten this far with a girl yet," he explained. "Can I?"

Carol nodded and allowed him to touch her. Despite the nightmare scenario she found herself in the look of wonder on his face as he handled her tits pebbled her nipples and she thought it wasn't completely unpleasant. Still, she didn't want to draw this out any longer than she had to. She encouraged Zach to undress and she pulled off the rest of her clothes along with him. His eyes were glued to her body and she saw his erection spring to life. It wasn't the most impressive she'd ever seen but he wasn't shabby, either.

"Lie down," she said. Zach started to but hesitated.

"Shouldn't I be on top?"

"If you want."

"I do."

As soon as she lay down he began kissing her sloppily again, forgetting his little kissing lesson in his enthusiasm. He groped her breasts and moaned into her mouth. This was his moment. She wasn't going to scold him or push him away. Oddly enough, Carol got caught up in the kiss and for just a moment she felt very young again.

"Now what?" he said breathlessly.

She wiped her mouth and helped him get situated between her thighs.

"You guide yourself into me," she said, surprised by how wet she was. It had been a long time since she'd had sex. Three years to be precise. Though this wasn't how she'd wanted to end the drought she was determined to see it through.

He had difficulty so Carol reached down and put the head of his dick at her entrance.

"Now push," she said.

He pushed forward and she relaxed, allowing him to slide into her.

"Oh, God!" he said, his eyes wide for a moment. Then he squeezed them shut. "Oh, Jesus! Wow…wow! It feels so good!"

"You move now," she said, trying very hard not to laugh. She was afraid she'd traumatize him and make him afraid of women for the rest of his life if she did. "Thrust. Move your hips back. In and out."

He did as instructed, balancing himself on his arms. His pace was clumsy and he slid out the first three times he pulled back so that Carol had to guide him in again. Then he found his pace.

"Too hard?" he asked, worried he'd hurt her.

"No, you can do it as hard as you want. I'm fine."

He thrust three times, hard, and then stiffened. She felt him come, explosively, while he moaned and shivered before collapsing on her.

"I can't breathe," she said.

"Sorry."

He rolled off her and Carol lay looking up at the ceiling. Intercourse had taken only about forty-five seconds from the time he entered her, which was better than she'd expected. When he'd caught his breath, Carol got up and started to dress. Zach looked ready to sleep right there but he forced himself up and pulled on his clothes.

"Remember, you can't talk about this to anyone or you'll be kicked out of the club."

She hoped that threat was enough to keep his mouth shut. If he told anyone she'd popped his cherry she'd just die of the shame.

"I won't. I promise. Thanks, Carol. It was awesome."

"Sure thing, Zach," she said kindly, and tolerated another kiss. She let him leave first, and when she was alone, she kicked the pile of blankets that had acted as their bed.

"I'd better get Rick or Daryl or Tyreese next time, damn it!" Carol shouted, on the off chance that whoever had orchestrated her first tryst was listening. "I deserve better than that!"

_Yeah_, Carol thought, as she left the laundry room. _If I ever find the Matchmaker I'm gonna kill them_.

**.**

**A/N:** Okay...maybe I'm a _little_ twisted.


	5. Daryl and Carol

**A/N**: This fic is in response to some really horrible Carol bashing that was placed in the reviews for the last chapter of this fic, 'Zach and Carol.' I understand that not everyone who reads my work is a fan of Carol's. That's okay, and I don't expect you all to be. Some of you even rabidly hate her and I don't mind because that's your right. I, however, do _not_ hate Carol. I'm quite fond of her, actually (I also love MMB). I often get a lot of comments about Carol that are rather negative and ugly. I'd like to respectfully request that you please not do that anymore in your reviews. If you have nothing positive to say about Carol, please don't say anything at all, at least not to me. It would be greatly appreciated. Beth hate disturbs me and so does Carol hate. In fact, all this hate disturbs me period and I find it really discouraging. Thanks, guys!

**.**

_**Saturday evening was clear, warm, and sunny.**_ Carol Peletier's weary feet carried her aching body up the metal mesh steps to her bunk. She was exhausted after helping five other men and women get the laundry done. People were responsible for washing their clothes but other items were done for the community, by the community.

Huge vats of boiling, soapy water sterilized the blankets, sheets, washcloths, and towels. Then other vats of cold water rinsed them. Huge, manually operated ringers made the work of ringing the water from the clothes easier than doing it by hand but the entire job was backbreaking. Thank God she only had to help out once a month now instead of three days a week as she had previously.

The little note on her pillow was unmistakable and it was the last thing she wanted to see. Last week she'd had the job of taking Zach's virginity. She'd received flowers and fruit from him since and she was afraid people in the club would realize they'd had a tryst if he kept it up. She found it too hard to be mean to the boy but she honestly didn't want him developing some kind of crush.

Night had fallen and her sore body protested at getting undressed so she simply lay down on her cot and opened the note.

_Sunday. 10AM. The Brook. Your reward._

My reward, she thought bitterly. Who would that be? Carl Grimes?

The idea of that made her stomach queasy. She wasn't relieving anymore inexperienced young men of their virginity. She didn't care how hard they begged or how pathetic they looked. She knew Carl wouldn't be there because the club was for adults and he hadn't yet turned fifteen. Still, she was wary of going. She was wary of who she'd end up with next.

.

_**Sunday morning came and Carol awoke**_ in a better mood. She decided she'd go. If she found another incompatible partner this time she'd simply apologize and leave. She opened the makeshift dresser she'd made out of plastic boxes and pulled out a pair of skimpy, lacy, black panties that she'd been saving for an occasion when she got lucky.

She didn't bother with a bra when she pulled on a pair of jeans and a thin tank top. This time she applied some makeup, just a tad bit of color to her eyes and cheeks, and a thin swipe of lipstick to color her lips nice and rosy. She decided she didn't look too bad when she went downstairs to leave.

The Brook was the name their people had given to a stream that branched off from the stream that they drew water from. It was wider and deeper and had a good supply of fish. It was also within walking distance. Twenty minutes later she arrived at a small wooden dock that jutted out over the water and sat down. The place was quiet, usually free of walkers, and with the morning being warm and humid she decided she'd dip her feet in.

Carol was lost in thought and busy watching the occasional leaf float down the water when a pair of booted feet came to stop beside her. Daryl Dixon sat next to her and she smiled over at him.

"Well, this is a surprise."

"Better than Zach, I hope," he said, giving her one of his very rare smiles.

"How did you know? Did he tell?"

Daryl shook his head. "Not with words and I don't think most people notice the way he's been staring at you and bringing you flowers and fruit."

He brushed off a stray eyelash that rested on her cheek. "I've never seen you in makeup before. You're beautiful."

"Thanks," she said, and chuckled. "He was a virgin."

"Why am I not surprised? How long did he last?"

"All told? About forty-five seconds. Most of that time I kept having to help him back in."

"Better than what I did my first time. I came as soon as I got in. That won't be a problem now," Daryl assured her. They fell silent and watched the water bubble by.

"This isn't our first attempt at this," he reminded her.

"I know," Carol said, nodding. "Everybody thinks we're screwing already."

They weren't screwing. They were best friends. Daryl thought that was perhaps why they weren't screwing. Their love ran deep but it wasn't sexual in nature.

"We don't have to," he said.

"Do you want out?"

He shook his head. "I figure we should at least get it on once before we die. Don't best friends do that sometimes?"

"I just don't want to mess us up," she confessed. "I love you, you know."

Daryl nodded. "I love you too."

"But you could still have sex with me, couldn't you?"

"I'm a man. I could have sex with Rick in the mud. I'm kidding," he hastened to add, when Carol's eyebrows shot up. "Just illustratin' my point."

Daryl widened his legs and then motioned for her to sit on the dock in front of him. She climbed over his lap and settled in, wondering what he had in mind, wondering if she could put their friendship aside enough to do this. She'd wanted to be with Daryl the last time they tried it but something just wasn't right. Perhaps it was the idea of a commitment. Perhaps it was the idea that if they did it once they'd have to keep doing it, even if that kind of love wasn't between them.

This time, though, there was no expectation of a commitment. They could fuck, see what it was like with each other, and then go on about their lives. That was the beauty of this Love Club, Carol thought. They could be with people without the expectation that they had to pretend to feel and want things from the other person that they really didn't.

Daryl began to run his fingertips up and down her arms in long, lazy strokes. It felt good. There was no expectation in his touch. It was just a touch. That, in itself, was arousing. She sighed and enjoyed the feel of his slightly calloused hands on her. He circled his left hand around to her front and slid it gently under her shirt, urging her to lean back against him which she did.

The warmth of his hand caused a flutter in Carol's belly. Daryl sensed she liked what he was doing so he very gently eased his hand up to cup one of her breasts and to play his thumb over her nipple, which hardened at once. She tilted her head to the right and Daryl lavished small kisses on her neck. Suddenly all of her fears about ruining their friendship faded. He wasn't her best friend anymore. He was a desirable man. A lover to enjoy on a beautiful, warm, Sunday morning in early autumn.

"Daryl…" she sighed, when his hand slipped into her pants, under the lacy panties, to rub his middle finger over her swollen, hardened clit. She was slick now, and felt her body relax in anticipation of taking some part of him into her.

"We may be more comfortable in the grass," he said. "It's dry now."

She nodded and stood with his help. He'd brought a blanket and she hadn't been aware of it until she turned away from the water and saw it lying there on the dock. He grabbed it and then spread it out in the soft grass beside the water.

"Allow me," he said, when she went to pull her shirt off.

Daryl took time to undress Carol. He enjoyed the act, since it was one he didn't think he'd ever get to indulge in. She toed off her shoes and he knelt before her to undo the clasp of her jeans and work them off her gently flared hips. She had such a curvy, womanly body. She was mature, in very good shape and he found her to be desirable and sexy.

Now Daryl was faced with Carol's womanhood, which was coated in soft, iron gray curls that matched her hair. He ran his hands up and over her hips, planted soft, wet kisses on her tummy, and then put one of her legs over his broad shoulder before flicking his tongue out to taste her.

Sasha had a very pungent, sweet flavor. Carol had a very mild scent, and a matching mild flavor that was as sweet as she was savory. He eagerly lapped at her moistened folds and Carol found herself moaning as he did. Daryl had always seemed so awkward with women. She hadn't expected him to possess this kind of experience in pleasing a woman. He was an enthusiastic lover. Unlike with Zach, there was nothing clumsy or sloppy about Daryl, or how he used his tongue.

His powerful arms wrapped around her and Daryl eased her to the ground. She could feel herself on the brink of release, and he pushed her, none to gently, over that bring with short, fast swipes of his tongue and sinking his fingers deep inside her, curling them, and touching her spot with just enough force to get her off. She forgot that she lived in a world with dead people that roamed the earth, seeking to feast on the living, so she didn't try to smother her cries as she felt her pussy clench and release in pleasurable ripples deep inside.

When Carol opened her eyes it was to the sight of sunlight dappling down through the trees above. Her thighs felt weak and her body felt warm and wonderfully boneless. Daryl lay down beside her and placed a hand over her belly. She hadn't even realized he'd undressed.

"Come here," he said, and pulled her close to him for a long, deep, slow kiss.

The entwining of their tongues, the feel of his hands on her body, the aftershocks inside, didn't entice Carol to relax but to roll onto Daryl. She lavished kisses down the flat plane of his belly and took in the sight of the patch of brown hair that led to his manhood. He was fully erect. His dick was long and thick and veined. She was going to have him inside of her and knowing it made her juices flow warm and thick onto her thighs.

Her tongue played over the head of Daryl's cock, tasting the salty sweet pre-come that beaded there. She languidly stroked her tongue along the shaft, eliciting a long, slow, contented sigh from Daryl. He lightly stroked her hair while she took him into her mouth and suckled him with the expertise that could only come from a woman with years of experience at being a lover who understood how a man's body worked. She didn't just pay tongue service to his cock, but to his heavy, swollen balls as well, taking them gently into her mouth and suckling them with just enough pressure to make him moan.

"Fuck, Carol…" he sighed. He looked down at her. She had the prettiest eyes, the fullest lips. He never thought he'd see those lips wrapped around his dick. He was glad he'd have the memory of it when this meeting was over.

She released his balls and slowly climbed over him. She put one toned leg on either side of his body and then positioned him at her slick entrance before slowly easing herself onto him.

"Oh, God…" she sighed, feeling Daryl fill her completely.

She began to roll her hips, slowly at first, then with more urgency. Daryl planted his feet on the ground and began to thrust up. Their heavy breath, their moans, the slapping of skin, the moist sound of their joining and the bubbling of the brook filled their ears. Daryl took a firm grip of Carol's hips, digging his fingertips into her soft skin, and thrust one final time before emptying himself into her.

.

_**They weren't supposed to walk back**_ to the prison together. They were supposed to give nothing of their tryst away to those who may also be in the Love Club, but that didn't mean anything to them. They were Carol and Daryl, long time best friends, and they didn't answer to the Matchmaker. At least not regarding their friendship.

"I enjoyed it," Carol said.

"Better than Zach?"

She laughed. "Much better. Just don't start sending me flowers and fruit. You'll give us away."

He nodded and walked toward the gate. "Carol…I'm glad you're my best friend."

"Same here," she said, and looped her arm through his for the rest of the walk home.


	6. Tyreese and Maggie

**A/N**: This story takes place in an AU in which the prison didn't fall to the Governor. I wanted to make that clear to cut down on confusion when you read this.

**.**

_**For the second time that week**_ Maggie Greene found herself in the middle of an intense argument between two people. They were from Woodbury, or a new member of the community, which was always the case. Any time a fistfight got started it was between the Woodbury people, or someone from Woodbury trying to start something with one of, what she and the original group to escape the farm called, 'the family.' It was extremely rare for someone from Woodbury to throw a punch at one of the family since they understood that the prison had belonged to them long before the Woodbury people, or the new members, were brought in.

"Fritz, Danny, stop it!" she shouted, trying to pull two men apart who were now wrestling on the ground. "Stop, damn it!"

One of the men, Danny, attempted to throw a punch and it missed Fritz, grazing Maggie instead. It was just luck she hadn't taken the hit full-on. When she stood back, holding her smarting mouth, Danny hesitated and that cost him a solid punch to the face. Fed up, Maggie walked around to get the right angle and then kicked the man on top, Fritz, across the jaw. He rolled to the side, unconscious, and Danny got up, also holding his mouth.

"Maggie, I'm sorry," he said. "I didn't mean to hit you."

"You shouldn't have been hitting anybody!"

"What the hell is going on here?"

Rick was now approaching, and Danny took on the appearance of a schoolboy whose misdeeds had landed him the unwanted attention of the principal and not just a teacher. That pissed Maggie off. He wouldn't respect her but he'd respect to Rick, who now looked at Maggie's bleeding lip.

"I did that by accident," Danny confessed, when Rick turned a blazingly angry glare on him.

"I don't care if it was an accident. You had no business fighting to begin with!" Rick scolded. "This is your second fight since you got here two months ago. You're starting to make me regret letting you in here."

Danny paled visibly. "He was in my face, talking shit."

"Then you should have reported him instead of throwing down with him. Get up, Fritz," Rick said, toeing him with his boot.

Fritz moaned, somewhat theatrically. Maggie was sure he'd been awake for a while now. He was strange and annoying, always playing games, acting as though he took nothing seriously, especially authority.

"Get the fuck up, quit with the show," Rick said. "I've had it with both of you. Especially you, Fritz. I'm putting you both in lockdown for three days. You'll be given water, no food."

Both men blanched.

"Yeah, that's right," said Rick. "I'm not giving you a fucking vacation here. It's a punishment. I won't feed two men who aren't working and contributing to the community. Water, no food. Three days. If you don't like it, there's the fucking door. Got anything to say about it?"

Both men shook their heads. Fritz wasn't playing games now, Maggie was satisfied to see. Rick was motioning for Tyreese to come over. The big man strode toward them, a sledgehammer thrown as casually over his massive shoulder as any other man might carry a jacket. She felt, not for the first time, a warmth spread through her belly at the sight of him.

Maggie loved Glenn with all her heart but she wasn't blind and she wasn't old, either. Tyreese wasn't just sweet and gentle, he was sexy, and humble. She thought he was probably completely unaware of his good looks and that made him very appealing to her.

Another thing that drew Maggie was the fact that not only was Tyreese hot, he was black. Her father didn't have a prejudiced bone in his body, so she'd never worried he would object to who she dated, but she'd always wondered how other people in the community would have reacted if she'd dated outside her race. She'd never had the nerve before the Turn. Then, after, it seemed stupid that she'd ever allowed other people's bigotry to influence her life.

The Love Club, should the Matchmaker ever get around to it, would offer the perfect opportunity for her to scratch that itch. She thought Tyreese would turn out to be a very generous, kind lover. She wondered if he was hung, she wondered if that saying that black men had big dicks was true or not, then decided it didn't matter. She knew better than to put faith in racial stereotypes. If there was any truth to them then Glenn, being Asian, wouldn't be hung like a stallion, which he was.

"Take Dumb and Dumber here to the lockup. They're each to receive ten cups of water a day. No food. Three day lockup sentence. I want both of you to look at me now," Rick instructed. Both men drug their eyes from the ground up to his eyes. "Next time either of you is in a fight, either with each other or with other people, I'm exiling you for good. Don't fuck with me. I'm not playing."

Rick directed the last to Fritz, who, for the moment at least, seemed to finally understand he'd pushed his luck and had now run out.

"Fritz is a fool and a troublemaker. I don't think he'll be here much longer. You okay?" asked Rick.

"I'm fine," she said, but still had to spit out a mouthful of blood.

"That's two fights this week. We're down from an average four a week the past couple of months," Rick observed.

"Well, there's been some…activities…going on that have let people blow off steam," Maggie answered. Rick knew, without her having to elaborate, that she was talking about the Love Club. People were still tense. They felt fear at all the risks they still faced, with threats from both the living and the dead, but sexual release offered them a way to find bright moments in these dark days. Whoever the Matchmaker was, he or she was on to something.

Maggie headed back to her bunk. She wanted a quick lie down with an aspirin since her head was starting to ache from both the humid heat and the blow to her face. The first thing she noticed was the tiny slip of paper on her pillow. She recognized it for what it was at once: Her first Love Club notice. With her heart fluttering, Maggie opened the small slip of paper.

_Row two. Cell seven. 2.a.m. tonight._

A smile spread across Maggie's face. That was Tyreese's cell.

**.**

_**Tyreese sat on the edge of**_ his bunk with his hands clasped, wondering who he would be assigned, and wondering why they were coming to his bunk. He'd been under the impression he would leave to meet his partner somewhere else. He hadn't actually had sex in about three years, before the Turn. He and Karen had come close, but then she'd fallen in of the flu that had struck the prison, and passed away. He missed her. He missed the companionship they'd shared. That was the only reason he'd agreed to this Love Club. He wanted sex but he wasn't ready for another commitment, and this would offer him that.

When two o'clock came he saw the privacy curtain on his bunk draw back. Maggie Greene filled the entrance.

"What happened?" Tyreese asked, not connecting that she was his match for the night. He assumed that for Maggie to be at his door something must be going on and he was needed to fight.

"I'm your partner," she whispered, and closed the curtain behind her. Tyreese had lit a small candle and set it high on the shelf. He wasn't worried about shadows being visible outside since he had heavy, dark curtains hung up.

"But you're married," he said.

Maggie thought he looked a tad panicked. Tyreese was moral almost to a fault. There was a real possibility he would refuse her.

"Glenn and I are both in the club," she explained. "We talked about it ahead of time and we're okay with this."

"Glenn agreed?" he said, wringing his hands.

Maggie nodded and came inside. She hadn't put shoes on since her bunk was only one story below and a few rows over. She'd simply had to come upstairs. She wore a night shirt and, by the looks of it, nothing underneath.

It wasn't like Tyreese hadn't noticed Maggie Greene before. Married or not she was a gorgeous young woman. Her body was young and curvy and she had a beautiful face. He'd never have dared said anything disrespectful or out of the way, regardless of her beauty. Now, as he watched her smiling down at him, he wondered if he would be able to go through with it.

She laid a condom on the small table beside his bed, and then stood in front of him, stroking her fingers down the side of his face.

"It's okay," she whispered. "We can do this. Glenn and I are both in the club. We're just relieving stress."

He nodded, feeling his heart rate pick up. Her breasts were in his face, her nipples hard and poking against the near transparent cotton shirt. He put his hands gingerly on her hips and looked up at her.

"We'll have to be quiet," he whispered.

Maggie nodded. "I can do that."

Tyreese ran his hands up the length of Maggie's shirt, still unable to believe he was about to have sex with a married woman. His reservations slowly faded when his hands came to rest on her firm, young bottom. He squeezed and Maggie pulled her shirt up and over her head. She discarded it to the floor and stood before him, naked.

"You're sure?" he whispered.

Maggie nodded. Tyreese ran one hand slowly up the inside of her thigh. He gently stroked his thumb over her clit and felt her moisten at his touch. Maggie wished they could have had this encounter somewhere more private. She and Glenn were good at silent sex but she wanted to feel free to express herself as she would without worry someone would hear.

After a moment, when Maggie could wait no longer to satisfy her curiosity, she pulled Tyreese's shirt off. He had soft, tight curls of hair on his chest that she ran her fingers over before kneeling before him to undo his pants and pull them down. He was hard but in the dim light from the candle she couldn't quite see what he had to offer until she had them down. He wasn't as long as Glenn but he was much thicker. She felt herself moisten even more, her body anticipating the feeling of sliding down over such a broad cock.

The tip of her tongue flicked out to tease the head of his cock. Soon she'd taken him into her mouth and she tried to deep throat him but couldn't quite achieve it. As Maggie suckled Tyreese she could feel the throbbing need in her pussy grow more intense until he tilted her head up and said, "Shhh…"

She'd started moaning as she suckled him, and hadn't realized it. His full lips curved in a smile and she stood to straddle him, pressing her lips to his before tongue kissing him slow and deep. He dipped his fingers into her wet cunt and felt her hiss with need.

"Now," he whispered. His voice in her ear nearly drove her insane with need.

Maggie positioned herself over him and began to lower onto his dick. Even as wet and open for him as she was she encountered some resistance, some pain, as she pushed down and took the head of his cock in. She gasped and hesitated. When she'd adjusted, she gently eased the rest of the way down.

Another involuntary moan escaped her. Maggie panted, both in pain and pleasure, as she adjusted to being filled so completely.

"You okay?" Tyreese whispered.

Maggie nodded and flexed her thighs. Tyreese reached between them and began massaging her clit as she very slowly raised and lowered herself on him. He sighed, feeling her adjust to him, feeling her movements pick up speed until Maggie was bouncing on his lap. They kept their foreheads pressed together while he guided her.

Now that Maggie was used to the thickness of Tryreese's cock every stroke was ecstasy. She bit into his shoulder, probably harder than she'd intended, trying to keep from crying out as the tension built inside her. Tyreese rubbed her back with one hand and squeezed her round, firm ass with the other, feeling Maggie's juices begin to dribble over his balls and drip onto his calves. She was the wettest he'd ever had and he didn't think he could hold out much longer.

Maggie clenched around him deep in her pussy she raked her hands over his shoulders, digging her nails into his back but he didn't mind the pain. Her orgasm was powerful and he allowed himself to find release by pulling her down on him, hard. Sated now, she sat back and shared another slow, tender kiss with Tyreese before climbing from his lap.

"Whoever you end up with, she's going to be one lucky woman," Maggie told him.

"Glenn is a lucky man," he answered, before helping her up. He handed Maggie her shirt and enjoyed one final glance of her naked body before she pulled it on and then slipped out into the dark corridor outside his cell.

**.**

_**When Maggie came to bed, after**_ a quick shower, Glenn sleepily held the blanket up for her. She crawled in next to him. He kissed her neck and she snuggled into the warmth of his body and the blanket and sighed happily. Her body was satisfied. She'd gotten to have some fun but she was glad to be back with the man she loved.

"Have fun?"

"Yeah. You?"

"Mine's not till tomorrow," he said.

"You sure you're okay with it?"

Glenn nodded. "You?"

"Yeah," she said honestly. "Is that twisted of us?"

Glenn shook his head. "I don't think so. We're having fun. This has nothing to do with our relationship. I love you."

"I love you too."

She kissed him lightly and then turned around so he could spoon her. In a few minutes she slipped away into a deep and comfortable sleep.


	7. Glenn and Beth

_**Glenn Rhee stood on the guard**_ _**tower under a sweeping sky that couldn't decide between sunshine and clouds. **_It was mid-October and a perfect seventy degrees but it was also windy. He scanned the tree line with his binoculars but the growth was so thick an army of snipers could have been drawing down on him and he wouldn't be able to see, though he doubted anyone was there.

The green was beginning to change to shades of yellow and red. By the time November rolled in they'd be ablaze with color and falling from the trees in preparation for winter. He took a few moments to scan the prison yard and watch their people go about their lives in peace. Rick and Carl fed the piglets they'd delivered from a brood sow they'd retrieved from the wild. Beth Greene walked with Zach toward the chicken coop to feed the hens and cocks. He was recovering nicely from the broken leg he'd sustained in a bad run earlier in the year. He had a limp that Hershel believed would probably be a permanent, but he was otherwise okay.

Black columns of smoke rose from the back yard of the prison where the boiling fires sterilized their drinking water and where people could get hot water to wash their clothes. They had a couple of cows back there for milking. Children ran and played, quietly so as not to draw more attention than necessary from walkers, and Glenn found himself wishing they could play without fear of the moving corpses. They had to learn to be quiet, however. It was a necessary part of survival now.

Carol Peletier arrived at two o'clock to relieve him of watch duty. She looked tired when she arrived and he wondered if she was okay.

"You look exhausted," noted Glenn.

"I did my first abortion today," she explained.

"Are you okay?"

"Oh yeah. I was glad I could help her safely. Hershel was there to walk me through it and to take over should something go wrong."

Glenn's brows raised. "Hershel?"

"His ideology, if you will, has evolved since the Turn. Neither he nor I blame any woman who doesn't want to bring a child into this world."

"I can stay another four hours if you need a break," he offered.

"No, it'll be fine. It's peaceful up here and I can relax while I keep a lookout."

Glenn left Carol to the job of watching the trees, the gates, and the access road for potential threats, and headed to the grill. He'd overslept that morning and missed breakfast. Now his stomach was complaining. He grabbed a plate of food that included a roasted potato and some kind of game he couldn't readily identify, and headed for his bunk.

As soon as he sat down he noticed the paper. It was on his pillow, not Maggie's. He snatched it up with a shaky hand. It was his first Love Club notice. After licking grease off his fingers Glenn read the blocky, handwritten text on the paper.

_The armory. Wednesday afternoon. 4 p.m._

Four o'clock tomorrow he'd be getting it on with someone who wasn't his wife. It would be the first time he'd ever stepped outside of his relationship with Maggie for sex. He was nervous and excited, and a grin tugged at his lips as he watched the little note burn in the wastebasket by the bed.

**.**

_**By the time three-thirty came, Glenn**_ _**was glad to be in the showers.**_ The day had turned out to be a scorcher with the high humidity and now clear skies. He'd volunteered to help Rick and Carl out with harvesting some feed corn and now he was covered in dust and sweat. He washed it all away in the shower before toweling off and getting dressed.

He was nervous. Not that he worried Maggie would have a change of heart about him taking part in the Love Club, but because he was about to be with someone new. He'd never been very good with women. He'd always been nervous, and when he was nervous nothing came out right, and nothing seemed to make sense, and he always felt like they dismissed him as a nerd. He was a nerd, but that was beside the point.

Now he headed toward the armory and, as he went, he was sure that everybody he passed, and everybody who saw him, knew exactly what he was about to do. He kept his head down and hurried through the common area and outside, past the basketball court where Zach and a few others were playing a game, and into the building that housed the armory and old, decrepit office furniture.

Evidence that his assigned partner for the encounter was there waiting came in the form of a pair of white cotton bikini underwear and a pair of sandals. There was something familiar about the sandals but he couldn't quite remember who he'd seen wearing them. Feeling nervous, his palms sweating, Glen walked around a tower of old filing cabinets to find a bed made of some bunk pads covered with old blankets.

Lying on the blankets was a completely naked Beth Greene.

His sister-in-law.

**.**

"_**No fucking way," she said at once.**_

Glenn's mouth hung open. He'd never heard Beth drop the f-bomb before. He'd never seen Beth naked before either. His instinct was to turn away and he did, partially, looking up at the ceiling guiltily, his face burning with embarrassment.

"Hey, Beth!" he said in a squeaky voice. "Um…Boy…"

"Glenn…"

He turned back to her and managed to keep his eyes locked on her face. Her nose, specifically. Okay, so he'd fantasized a couple of times about banging his wife's little sister. What man didn't if the little sister was hot? That didn't mean he actually wanted to do it.

She was standing up now. To his surprise, and confusion, she wasn't trying to hide her nudity. She didn't reach for the tee-shirt and cut-offs she'd thrown haphazardly on the floor.

"So not what I was expecting," Glenn confessed. "I thought I'd get Sasha or Michonne. Or maybe Candice."

"I thought you'd be Daryl or Tyreese or even Bob," she confessed.

"Bob?"

She didn't look overly thrilled. "Yeah. Bob. Better you than Bob."

He nodded and shoved his hands in his pockets. "So, we can totally back out."

"Right," she said.

They lapsed into silence. They looked at the room, studying the broken chairs and rusty desks with much more interest than they warranted. Finally Beth broke the silence.

"I've thought about it," she said. "Not that I ever would have tried anything."

He nodded. "Yeah, I've pretended Maggie was you a few times. Not that I would have done anything."

She was a few inches closer. He stepped closer to her. He knew it was gonna happen, despite the awkwardness, for the simple fact that it _was_ wrong. It was wrong because it was forbidden. Forbidden, Glenn knew, could be really exciting. There would be no repercussions from this because it wouldn't be talked about and it wouldn't be repeated unless the Matchmaker brought them together again.

"It's kinda weird," Beth said quietly.

"Forbidden is a good word for it," he answered.

Beth nodded, liking that word. "Forbidden. This should never, ever, happen between us."

"Never," he agreed, now facing her.

There was a moment they looked into one another's eyes. There was a moment they knew they could do this and get away with it. There was a moment when they simultaneously thought to themselves that the Matchmaker was a twisted motherfucker and they were glad of it.

Glenn ripped his shirt off just before Beth threw herself into his arms, and it was on.

**.**

_**Beth was pleasantly surprised by Glenn's dick.**_ He was well endowed and he was a great kisser, too. He tongued her slowly before lavishing kisses down her neck and over the flat plane of her belly. He looked up at her once before dipping his tongue into her moistened folds. She moaned, long and slow, lost inhow surreal the moment was. Her brother-in-law was eating her out. She'd never dreamed it would happen.

Beth leaned up and tapped him on the shoulder. She wanted to come with him inside her and she wanted to watch him fuck her. She wanted that memory.

Glenn placed himself at her slick entrance and slid inside. She was wet and relaxed so he fit inside easily. She verbally encouraged him to move and Beth gazed down to where their bodies joined to watch Glenn moving inside of her. She lifted her hips, moving in time with him, until that knot of tension deep in her core warmly unfurled. Glenn came harder than he had in a long time.

**. **

_**Glenn dressed and watched Beth pull on her clothes.**_ He doubted they'd be paired up again by the Matchmaker. If they weren't he'd never get to see her naked again, and he liked the way she looked. She was different from Maggie in body but no less beautiful. When they were dressed, they shared a moment of silence that wasn't uncomfortable or awkward.

"Well, this is a story we won't be able to tell anyone else," said Beth with a slight smile.

"No kidding," he agreed. "Think we'll be paired up again?"

"I don't know. You feel guilty?"

Glenn shook his head. "I should. I don't."

"Me either. That may change when we see Maggie."

**.**

_**Glenn nodded and waited for her to leave first.** _Somehow he doubted guilt would come. What they'd done had excited him. It had been a thrilling little adventure, a practice in the forbidden, and it would likely never happen again. One thing was certain-he'd never wanted to fuck Maggie more than he did right then. He would go to her tonight and he knew it would be better than ever.


	8. Daryl and Michonne

The Matchmaker has struck again, this time pairing Daryl up with Michonne

**.**

_**Daryl thrust hard but his movements lacked haste.** _He slammed into Michonne, making her moan, before sliding slowly, deliberately, out.

"Your pussy is so fucking wet," he moaned.

Once again he thrust inside, hard, feeling her quiver.

"Please...faster..." she said pleadingly.

Daryl ran a hand slowly up the smooth plane of her back. Her skin was slicked with sweat and unmarred by a single scar or imperfection.

"Turn over," he said.

Michonne turned on the mattress to face him. Daryl slicked his fingers over her breasts, taking in the sight of her, gloriously naked beneath him. His thumb found the hard nub of her clit and rubbed. He began to move again, watching her eyes close from the intensity of the pleasure coursing through her core. He kept up a relentless assault on her clit as he thrust, harder, faster.

He came first, taking pleasure in his release. When he opened his eyes Michonne was staring at the ceiling, biting her lower lip, clearly disappointed.

A smile came to his lips before he trailed kisses down her tummy. He took her swollen clit into his mouth and began to suckle. He slipped two fingers inside and found that fabled spot that drove a woman crazy and massaged it with just enough force to begin to drive her wild again. Michonne gripped Daryl's hair until she came, her entire body shivering as ripples of pleasure coursed from her core and radiated out.

"Thought I'd leave you hangin?" Daryl asked, after they caught their breath.

"It wouldn't be the first time a man's done that to me."

"I wouldn't," he said, and lit a cigarette.

"That's a disgusting habit."

"It's great after sex," he informed her.

"You don't think this is going to fuck up our friendship?"

He shrugged. "Not on my end."

She chuckled and looked up at the ceiling of the old office they'd been assigned for their tryst by the Matchmaker.

"I wonder who's behind it," she finally said.

"I don't know. Don't wanna know."

"Why?"

Daryl got up and began pulling on his clothes. "As soon as we know it'll be over."

"How long has it been going on?" she asked, while she zipped her pants and reached for her bra.

"At least three weeks. You're my third hookup."

"You're my second."

"We ain't supposed to talk about it."

"Not out there. We can talk about what we want in here."

He nodded before grinding his cigarette out on the floor. "Out there," he said, nodding at the door. "This gonna happen again?"

"With us?"

He nodded.

"Depends," she said, going to the door with a coy smile.

"On what?"

"If you got what it takes to seduce me without the Matchmaker."

She winked and left the room, leaving Daryl with a rare smile on his lips. He lit up another cigarette and then walked out. There was a shadow at the corner of the hall that didn't belong to Michonne. Daryl considered chasing after the owner of that shadow, wondering if it was someone who'd simply listened in, or if it was the Matchmaker. In the end he decided to turn and walk away.

He didn't want to know. He didn't want the hookups to end.


	9. Rick and Carol

_**The small scrap of paper on**_ his pillow gave Rick a thrill. He hadn't received another hookup and he'd wanted one immediately after his romp with Beth. He'd begun to think the Matchmaker had forgotten him, or was punishing him for his little stakeout attempt. Now, finally, he had another slip of paper.

_Prison library._

_Friday night. 10pm._

He'd anxiously awaited the time and place to arrive. Friday had started off bad, with walkers at the fence, and then the hard work of harvesting on top of getting a bad cut to his right forearm from a shard of glass he'd unearthed in the soil. While the cut didn't require stitches Hershel had cleaned and wrapped it and it had throbbed all day.

The shower washed away the stink of manure and sweat. He'd rewrapped his arm and then met Daryl coming back with a wagon loaded with cases of beer. Six cases, to be exact. They'd had a successful hunt, bagging a deer, and there was meat to grill along with the vegetables. A cooler was hooked up to the ice machine to make ice to fill the coolers and chill the beer, and the cans of soda brought back for the kids. Rick had just enough time to make a couple of plates and grab a six pack of beer before heading off for his scheduled liaison.

Now, at ten p.m., Rick heard the door to the library rattle and he stiffened, wondering who was about to come in. part of him hoped it would be Beth again. Another part was hoping for Michonne or Sasha, or Maggie. Carol was the last person he expected to see and he wasn't disappointed. She'd crossed his mind more than a few times when he'd settled into his bunk at night to take care of business himself. She was a good looking woman and he liked her.

"Rick," she said, closing and securing the door behind her with a chair she wedged under the handle. She saw the food and the beer and smiled.

"You managed to snag some of the food and beer. It's about all gone, now. Just so you know, Carl and Patrick snuck a beer out of the coolers."

"I'll have a word with him," Rick said, then thought about it. Carl was behaving like a normal teenager. Sneaking a single beer with one of his buddies to see what it was like was such a harmless act. He decided he'd let it slide.

"No, you won't," Carol said, laughing easily as she sat down beside him on the floor.

"If we eat now, we'll have to wait awhile for…"

"Or," Carol countered, "we could work up an appetite?"

"That's what I was thinking."

They clunked beer cans. "To the Matchmaker."

"To great sex," Rick said.

They took a pull off the can. It was some generic brand and they both grimaced.

"Oh, God, that's awful," Carol commented.

"It's like drinking cold piss."

Carol nodded in agreement. They finished the first cans and started on the second. Rick studied her for a moment before leaning against the leg of one of the heavy reading tables.

"You ever think about Ed? How he'd react to the changes in you now? You're not the same woman you were when we met."

"I try not to think of Ed if I can help it, but yeah, I don't think he'd recognize me anymore. Especially me making hookups with the help of some anonymous third party."

"What was sex with him like?"

"Boring," she said at once, without hesitation. "He had a little dick and he didn't care to please me."

"You may be relieved to know that I don't have a little dick and I do care to please you," Rick told her.

Carol smiled. She would have blushed had Rick said such a thing to her outside of this moment.

"He never got really hard all the way, either. He would roll onto me, fuck me for ten or fifteen seconds, come, and then roll over and go to sleep. Boring."

"He ever eat you?"

"Careful. Questions like that are liable to get me worked up, Rick. He tried once, failed miserably, and that was that. How about Lori? She good in bed?"

"In the early days it was good. She was the second woman I'd ever been with. I've had a few other experiences. Enough to know she could be a cold fish most of the time. I think she was just…self conscious with me. She'd tense up and just kind of…endure it."

"I'm not a cold fish. I don't plan to tense up."

"Careful, Carol. That kind of talk is getting me worked up."

"Then lets stop talking and do something about it."

They finished off their second beer, both feeling the alcohol since their exposure to it was few and far between. They got to their feet and Carol stood in front of Rick. He put one hand around the back of her neck and pulled her into a deep, slow kiss. Their mouths tasted of beer and their bodies felt loose and warm as they began to run their hands over each other.

…

_**Before her tryst with Daryl by**_ the creek, the last time Carol Peletier had enjoyed sex had been eight years ago, on her and Ed's seventh wedding anniversary. Ed had been diddling his 'best friend' Terry's wife, Lucy, and when Terry found out about it he wanted revenge. So, on the night of their seventh anniversary, while Ed was passed out on the couch after the party, Terry had snuck into Carol's room and told her all about her husband and his wife.

He had no way of knowing, of course, that Carol didn't give two shits about Ed fucking Lucy. He didn't know that Carol would gladly throw women at Ed if it meant he wouldn't be climbing onto her in the middle of the night. He also had no way of knowing that she was more surprised than he was when she'd thrown back the covers and told him to get back at Ed and Lucy by fucking her.

She'd enjoyed the sex. It was the best fuck of her life. Or so she'd thought.

Now she was bent over one of the reading tables in the prison library, her pants around her ankles, and Rick was playing his fingers over her clit. _Rick Grimes. Jesus_, Carol thought. He hadn't been joking. He didn't have a little dick and he did care to please her.

She quickly lost her train of thought when she felt the head of his dick at her entrance. He lifted one of her legs onto the table, spreading her wide, and then he slipped slowly inside. He was, literally, twice the man Ed had been. She was loose from excitement and need but he was still a very tight fit.

"Oh, God…"

"You okay?" he whispered, halting with only the head of his cock inside.

"Don't stop," she said, pushing back on him, taking in another inch. He continued pushing in, going deeper, until she felt his heavy balls, tight with semen, resting against her inner thigh.

"Fuck," he whispered. She felt his dick literally throbbing inside of her, making her wetter at the feel of it.

"Yeah…fuck," she said, wanting him to move.

He obliged her, pulling out before thrusting back in.

"Take off your top," he said.

Carol fumbled it off and pulled her bra off too. She'd give him access to anything he wanted if he'd just fuck her. His right hand gripped her tit while his left hand took hold of her shoulder and he began to move in earnest, thrusting, going deeper than any man, even good ole Terry, had ever been in her entire life. She wanted to be quiet, to keep anyone from hearing, but damn if she couldn't hold back a cry every time Rick pushed himself into her, sending a sweet ache into her core that added to the tension already there, like weight on a fragile damn that was going to burst if a single drop of water was added.

"Rick," she panted, when he suddenly pulled out and took his hands off her.

"Come here."

His voice was commanding, the leader in him, that had been missing since he stepped down to become a father, showing through. He all but flipped her over, manhandling her like she weighed nothing. She'd always hated Ed doing that. Now she welcomed the feel of this man physically manipulating her onto her back on the table. He pulled her to him, throwing her legs up over his shoulders.

One of his hands came to her face, gripping it, before sliding down to her tits where he pinched and rolled her nipples with just enough force to be both painful and pleasurable. She watched his face as he took in her body, and felt him put his heavy, hardened cock to her entrance once again.

He pushed his way inside and stopped, looking at her.

"I'm gonna fuck you so hard," he breathed.

She felt her juices spill down her ass, undoubtedly to run down the edge of the tabletop to drip onto the floor. Her eyes drifted closed as Rick made good on his promise. His thrusts were brutally hard. They were harder than anyone had ever fucked her before and after only a few seconds the damn broke and she was coming, forcefully, her cries weeping from her lips as Rick pushed himself to find release.

The whole tryst hadn't taken long but it was, literally, the best fuck of her life. It was even better than what she'd experienced with Daryl on their hookup, and she wouldn't have thought that possible. Daryl had been a kind and generous lover, treating her like a friend that he wanted to please. Rick, on the other hand, had treated her like a woman that had inspired bestial need in him. Two wildly different experiences.

She pulled her pants up and searched for her bra. She dressed and watched him zipping up before he sat in one of the chairs and waited for her to join him. She cracked open the last can of beer and then began to eat the food Rick had brought with him.

"Would that have ever happened without the Matchmaker?" Rick asked.

Carol shrugged. "Probably not. Want it to happen again?" she asked, licking juice from the deer meat off her fingers. Rick watched her and smiled.

"Yeah," he said. "I think I would."


	10. Daryl and Beth

**A/N**: Someone pointed out on AO3 that they missed the lead-up to the hookup, which is what makes this series unique, and I agree. I added a lead-up and I also fixed story canon. I'd had Daryl not think of Beth as a sexual creature when, in fact, it was hearing Beth and Rick that spurred him to put his name into the Love Club. I've fixed that as well so continuity is now correct. Enjoy!

**...**

_**Daryl Dixon is feeling twitchy**_. It's been two weeks since his tryst with Michonne. While he enjoys the Love Club, the Matchmaker was taking too long to pair him up between meetings. He replays his encounters with Sasha, Carol, and Michonne in his mind when he can't stand the need in his loins and beats off in his cell but it's just not enough. He's going through withdrawals, jonesing for a fuck, and his left hand just ain't gonna cut it.

When it comes down to it Daryl supposes he could always just approach one of the women again. They'd had a good time together and he's sure they'd be willing for a second round, sans the Matchmaker's interference, but he doesn't want to go that route. He doesn't want them to get the idea he wants anything more than sex and at the same time he doesn't want them to feel used.

Still…he needs a hookup.

Daryl catches sight of Beth Greene coming from the showers. She stops in the corridor and speaks with Karen. Her hair is wet and she looks freshly scrubbed. He'd bet anything she smells great and would feel even better. Karen doesn't look so bad either, though he knows she's got a new thing going with Tyreese and he's not sure she'd be willing to participate in the Love Club. They may not be as open to the idea as Maggie and Glenn are.

Beth…he remembers the sounds of her moans when he heard Rick putting the wood to her. A rush of warmth floods his cock and he tries not to get hard remembering it. Beth Greene still seems so innocent and sweet and not the type to engage in random hookups but she had. She'd enjoyed it with Rick. Would she enjoy an encounter with him, too?

Karen seems to notice they're being watched and she glances at Daryl, watching him watching Beth. He turns away when Beth's eyes find him. He's not going to be obvious for fuck's sake. The sounds of Beth's moans spur Daryl to decide to head for his cell and the bottle of lotion waiting there just as soon as he's finished his rounds of the fences.

**…**

_**When Daryl returns to his cell**_ an hour later, still worked up, still feeling that persistant need in his dick, he finds a tiny piece of white paper on his bedside table, along with a condom. He sighs in relief and picks up the paper.

_Your cell, Saturday night, 11:30 PM_

Daryl grins and lies back. He decides to forgo the beating off session he'd had planned. He'll save it for his partner, whoever she may be.

**…**

_**Daryl's all but pacing his cell**_ when the time comes for his hookup. It's a bit early for a Saturday night. He wonders who will show up, who will knock on the wall outside his cell, and if anyone will see her come in. There's always a chance that they could be heard considering there were more people up and about on a Saturday evening. None of that matters, though. He's going to get laid. The whole prison could listen for all he cares.

That is, until the curtain parts and Beth Greene peers in. He tries to play it off since there's a legitimate chance she's there by coincidence. When she steps inside and pulls the curtain shut, however, he knows she's it. She's his hookup.

"Finally," she whispers, kicking off her shoes. "I've been waiting for you."

"I've been waiting for you too," he tells her. "I heard you that night with Rick."

Beth lays a finger over Daryl's lips. "We're not supposed to talk about it."

He nods and hooks her finger into his mouth with his tongue. Her eyes slip halfway shut and when he releases her finger she grips his shirt with both hands and pulls him into a kiss. It's rough and dirty and he has a good feeling this is going to be the best fuck of his life. He yanks her shirt off, wanting her naked as soon as possible, wanting to feel her against him.

**…**

_**It occurs to Daryl, as he**_ lies back on his cot and watches her kissing her way down the flat plane of his belly, that prior to hearing her with Rick he'd never once thought of Beth Greene in a sexual manner. Those days were definitely over.

His dick is hard, lying against his belly. He feels her chin brush against the sensitive flesh. Beth's eyes lock onto his as she deliberately sticks out her tongue and lays it flat against his balls.

"Fuck," he sighs. The visual is just as erotic as the act itself. Sweet little Beth Greene has done this before. She was sweet, always would be, but she definitely wasn't virginal or innocent to sex as he'd always assumed.

Beth's lips part at the corners, turning up in a grin, as she continues to lap at his balls. He watches her enjoying the act as much as he is. She runs her tongue flat against his shaft. It's so warm and wet. Almost as warm and wet as he imagines her pussy is.

A light moan escapes Beth and her eyes drift closed as she takes him into her mouth. Her head bobs as she sucks him. Soon she moans again.

"I'm so fucking wet. My pussy is aching so deep inside…"

That kind of commentary is almost enough to make him blow his wad right in her mouth but he can't form words to ask her not to talk dirty. Instead he grips her arms and encourages her to let go of him with her mouth so he can roll the condom on. She's reluctant to stop suckling him but she allows him to pull her up and lie her flat against his body after he's fitted on the protection.

Daryl's hands gently roam over her body. His hands, rough from work, and hauling around a heavy crossbow, and shooting guns, and wielding the steel of various knives, feel good on her skin, which is developing a light sheen of sweat in her increasing state of arousal.

His hands reach her ass which he squeezes. One drifts lower and his fingers begin to massage her dripping wet pussy. He slips his middle finger inside and she moans against his mouth.

"Fuck…" she sighs. Her instinct is to push down on his fingers, wanting to be filled with him. His hard cock twitches against her belly, eager to feel her from the inside.

Beth kisses Daryl. Their tongues lazily circle, their lips are moist and warm, and their breath is hot in each others mouths. The kiss doesn't get hurried, even in their passion. It stays slow, sweet, deeply erotic for both of them. Beth lifts up and begins to guide Daryl to her entrance.

Beth breaks the kiss and lays her head on Daryl's chest as she slides down onto him, taking him, inch by inch inside of her. He puts both hands on her ass and guides her, lifting her, feeling the muscles of her thighs flex as she moves, torturously slow. Her hair smells like sunshine and vanilla and she feels so fucking good. Better than anyone he's ever been with in his life.

There's a strange sensation in Daryl's chest. It's kind of like pain, kind of like pleasure, and he realizes that he's not used to being emotional. Sex has never aroused this kind of feeling in him before and he stares at the ceiling, feeling Beth's hardened nipples against him, her breath, coming in fast pants, against his chest. She puts her chin on him and he looks down into her eyes, staring at him as she begins to move faster.

The sound of their union is the hottest thing Daryl has ever heard. It's all fast breath and the wet sound of his cock in her wet pussy. As she begins to move faster, Daryl grips her, halting her, so he can change their positions. He gently rolls her onto her back and then settles between her thighs, entering her once again.

"Wrap your legs around me," he whispers.

Beth obeys, wrapping her legs around until the heels of her feet are against his ass. He begins to move, his hips pumping faster, her gasps seemingly loud in the quiet of the night. She bites into his shoulder to stifle the moans that want to escape her lips. At that moment Daryl buries his face in the pillow and settles in to literally ride out the storm.

A storm it is. This went from being a chance at fun to something deeper for him. He doesn't want Beth to see his face. He's afraid she'll divine the truth in the tears that are stinging at his eyes as he rides her, driving them both to climax. They reach the pinnacle together and when Daryl comes he's uncharacteristically loud, smothering his moans in the pillow and the crook of her shoulder. Beth can't help but hear that his climax sounds akin to weeping.

**…**

_**Daryl lies in the dark with**_ Beth wrapped against his body. She's not asleep but she's still, one leg draped over him, enjoying the feel of his fingers caressing her shoulder.

"Are you okay?"

He's not sure how to answer the question at first. Then he knows. He answers. "I think I just made love to you."

"Yeah."

"I've never done that."

"You were a virgin?"

"No, I've had sex. Lots of it. I've just never made love."

Beth leans up on one elbow and gazes down at him.

"That was different from any…other…encounter I've ever had," she says. "It felt…it felt…"

"Right."

She nods. That's the perfect word. "It felt right."

She kisses him. It's slow and deep and Daryl doesn't want it to end. Ever. Sweet Beth. She made him feel something he'd never felt before. He thinks it could be…love.

"I have to go."

"Why?"

"We're supposed to leave when its over."

"Don't have to," he says. He throws the blanket over them to ward off the midnight chill in the air.

Beth snuggles down into the bed. "You want me to stay?"

"Yeah."

They're silent, enjoying the warmth of the blanket and their naked bodies, until they drift to sleep.

In the morning they both wake and find a slip of paper on the bedside table in Daryl's cell. He picks it up and they read it together.

_Your names have been removed_

_from the Love Club. You have found _

_your match_

Daryl smiles, wads up the paper, and tosses it into the wastepaper basket. He doesn't bother to burn the message. Instead, he tugs Beth close and kisses her forehead.

"Yeah. We've found our match."

Beth's hand drifts low under the blanket and she takes Daryl into her hand.


End file.
